The Tool Man

When Kim decided to remodel the loft in the old barn and make it into a private studio, she'd gotten all excited at just the idea of it. Her own private place to get away from the world, to sit back and let her mind wander and play. A reading room. An office. A haven to listen to music and drift away from everyday hassles and responsibilities. Watching the sun set in warm, brilliant hues through thrown wide loft doors. Sigh...her own private "downtime" room. But little did she know that that room was to become much more than that...have much more meaning...bring so much more pleasure and purpose to her life. She was to receive a huge shock on that account...and it would happen before the room was even completed.

After checking with several construction companies and contractors, comparing prices and availability, she finally settled on the one that seemed most willing to listen to her ideas, that sounded most happy to work with her. This was, after all, to be a special room...and it had to be just right. In retrospect, Kim had no idea just HOW special that room would become.

And so it came to be that she hired the Bolton Brothers Construction Company, a small family firm that boasted "Twenty years of reliable service throughout five counties. Ask your neighbors...we've probably done some work for them." She'd spoken to one of the titular brothers, a husky-voiced man named Alex, both in the initial phone call and in the final call where she agreed to hire them. He seemed knowledgeable and pleasant, with all the right answers and a most agreeable price. And so, her dream room had taken its first step to its long overdue birth.

Kim was excited the day construction was to begin. She paced for hours until the caravan of pickup trucks rolled into her back yard, each loaded with supplies and tools to make her dream come true. That was when she met the owner of the telephone voice. Alex was a stocky man, tanned and strong from long hours in the sun creating dreams for other people. He explained to Kim that the entire construction, barring unforeseen circumstances, should only take a few days. Kim was ecstatic! Just a few short days to her dream of dreams!

As she spoke with Alex, she noted with a little surprise that one by one all the trucks had dropped off their supplies and had begun to leave. No one was staying to do the work! She addressed this concern with Alex, and he laughed.

"Well, in all honesty, ma'am," Alex said with a smile, "this is really a small job. One man can handle this just fine. The rest of my men have to head out of town to do a huge remodeling job on a department store. They'll be working on that project for several weeks. We're committed to a time limit on that one, and I'll need as many workers there as I can get."

"But," Kim said, looking perplexedly at the back yard, now empty of all but Alex's personal pickup, and the apparently abandoned supplies, "other than you, there's no one left here. Are you going to do the work yourself?"

"Oh, no, ma'am," he replied, seeming to be amused, "the other half of Bolton Brothers will be here himself shortly. I've got to oversee the department store construction, but my brother John has been in this business as long as I have. He's one of the best construction guys there is, trust me."

"Oh, so....he'll be here soon?" she asked, her dream suddenly seeming to waft away in the breeze.

"Sure," Alex still smiled, "any minute. Trust me, everything's okay. Now, I really have to go. I've left notes and plans for John over there by the tool box. He'll know exactly what you're looking for and how to make it just right for you. Really, ma'am, he's the best."

With a friendly wave, Alex turned and headed to his truck. As he drove off, Kim stared blankly at the empty yard. Well, empty except for wood, sheet rock, saws, drills and other construction materials and tools. In comparison to the churning tires of the parade of pickup trucks and the clamor of broad-shouldered men carrying supplies quickly from truck to barn, the air seemed eerily silent all of a sudden. Kim stood there, dazed, but precariously hopeful.

Just as she was beginning to pace again, some fifteen minutes later, another pickup barreled along her driveway, bouncing and weaving over rock and grass. The truck itself seemed somehow full of energy, eager for action. It bumped and bounced, ultimately screeching to a halt in a cloud of dust. The door opened, and out popped her dream maker.

Standing at almost six feet tall, John was more trim than his brother, his muscles more sculpted and firm. His tan was as dark and complete as his brother's. He was naked above the waist, and Kim's eyes traced his tight pecs from his shoulders right down to his dark nipples. They had already begun to glisten with perspiration in the summer heat. His hair was dark and wavy, made no less dark even in contrast to his bronzed skin. His mustache, brown and neatly trimmed, somehow made Kim tingle just to look at it. But it was the eyes that did her in. Deep blue eyes that seemed to shimmer beneath his dark eyebrows and tanned forehead. Standing about thirty feet from him as he stood beside his truck, Kim could nonetheless see the cool sensuality in those incredible eyes. Looking the man up and down, she clamped her thighs together and sighed wistfully.

John leaned in to pull his personal toolbox out of the cab, where it had sat next to him on the seat. He lifted it up and placed it on the roof of the cab, then turned to give Kim a friendly wave. His smile was genuine, sensual lips curling just enough to show a tiny bit of his white teeth. After placing the toolbox on the roof, he leaned in again, taking something out of the cab that Kim didn't recognize at first. As he slung the object around his waist, her eyes began to focus on and recognize it for what it was. With an audible "whoosh" and "click," John whipped the tool belt completely around his waist and fastened the clasp, adjusting the tightness. It all happened in seconds, with the practiced ease of countless repetitions. Now the tool man had his toolbox and his tool belt. He was ready to create a miracle.

"Hi," he yelled over to Kim, smiling that winning smile and walking toward her, "I'm John. I assume you're Kim?"

Forcing her lungs to function properly, Kim replied, "Yes, that's right. I'm Kim. I was getting a little worried when I saw all this stuff delivered, but no one to put it all together."

John looked concerned. "Didn't my brother tell you I'd be along?"

"Well, yes, he did," Kim said, feeling a tiny bit foolish, "but, well, you know...I've waited so long to have this done that I got a little nervous when everyone left."

He smiled. "Don't worry, we at Bolton Brothers never leave a job unfinished. I'll have this loft renovated in no time. Just ask..."

"I know, I know," Kim said, "just ask my neighbors, right? You've probably done some work for them?"

John laughed with gusto, his head tilting back with the force of it, his open mouth showing just how white and perfect his teeth were. "Ahh, I see you've memorized our ad, huh? Catchy, isn't it?"

"Yes...very," she answered, a wry smile curling her lips.

"Well, let's see what we've got, shall we? Did my brother happen to tell you where he left notes for me to look at?"

"Actually, yes, he did. He said he put them over there....by the humongous tool box next to the saw horses." She pointed, and when John saw the pad he nodded.

"Thanks," he offered, with an officer's salute and a wink.

"Welcome" Kim replied, giving him a stiff-fingered salute in return.

Without further conversation, John took his toolbox and headed for the job notes.

Kim wasn't sure where she wanted to look first. His broad, tanned shoulders and back? The tight blue Levi's that hugged his delectable ass? The muscled arms, one of which carried the toolbox as if it was a bag of feathers? In the end, her eyes decided on ogling his sweet, denim-covered derriere. It moved so sweetly as he walked, after all. And she so loved a man with a sexy ass.

With her chin resting on her thumb and forefinger, she did just that. She watched John walk to the large tool box with the notes on it. She thought she'd faint when he bent over to pick up those notes. As it was, she ended up biting the tip of her forefinger so hard she almost drew blood. She sighed, licking and sucking her finger as she watched him bend and then stand up again, studying the instructions.

With his lower body still facing the barn, he turned at the waist, swinging his upper body around to face Kim, saying something to her. She was so fixated on his Levi-clad buns that she didn't hear him at first. He spoke again, more loudly. "If you'll just show me the loft," he said, "I'll get an idea where to start."

"Oh....sure," Kim stammered, blushing, "right this way."

She showed him into the barn, walking across the dirt floor to the loft area. When she approached it, she realized she'd need the ladder for the two of them to get up into the loft, so she headed for the spot where it leaned against the wall of the barn. John beat her to it.

"I'll get that, ma'am," he said, lifting it as if it were made of cardboard and bringing it to the edge of the loft.

"John, please don't call me 'ma'am'. My name's Kim, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," he smiled, "sure. Sorry. It's just habit. Didn't mean anything by it. I mean....well, you know."

She laughed. "It's okay. Let's just call each other Kim and John from now on, okay? You're going to be here for a few days, so 'ma'am' and 'Mr.Bolton' would sound kinda stodgy, wouldn't it?"

"Couldn't agree more....Kim." He smiled and winked one of those sexy blue eyes. Kim bit her lip.

"Good. Now, I'll show you what I'm after...in the loft, I mean...what you can do for me...what I want from you, I mean...with my new room." Embarrassed at her sudden fit of stammering, she hoped her face wasn't flushed. But it sure did feel awfully warm.

Again John laughed. "All right, Kim. Follow me up the ladder, and you can give me any other instructions when we get up there."

Kim licked her lips again at the thought of following that Levi-clad backside up the ladder. And the reality of it was even better than her fantasy. With each step that sexy ass called out to her, teased her, winked at her every bit as much as the deep, blue, twinkling eyes had. Step after step it pushed mightily against the Levi's, moving seductively as each thigh lifted to propel John's legs up the ladder. The backside of his jeans were faded, prompting a fantasy vignette on Kim's part, where the worn material simply dissolved away, fiber by fiber, slowly revealing the powerful buns of a firm-bodied tool man. The fantasy lasted but a few fleeting moments, but before it ended, her fantasy self had bounded up the ladder, grabbed his hips in a grip of steel and nibbled that teasing ass raw. She might've giggled, but it's difficult for most people to giggle and sigh simultaneously.

By the time they got to the top, Kim's eyeballs were sweating, her pupils imitating the steady motion of his cheeks as he climbed up those splintering, wooden steps. Her hypnotized pupils seemed unable to stop their round and round, up and down movements, making the task of focusing - on anything but John's buns - difficult at best. It was a wonder it didn't make her dizzy.

Kim was out of breath when she finally stood on the creaking floor of the loft. And the perspiration building up on her forehead was disproportionate to the arid heat of the day and the mild exertion of climbing the ladder. So was the thudding of her heart.

"Wow," John said, "this'll make a great little office. The loft doors will help keep it cool. Lots of flowing air. Fantastic view, too." He walked over to the doors and looked out, hands on hips, his muscular body silhouetted in the bright sun.

"No shit...tell me about fantastic views," Kim mumbled under her breath, still seeing those nibbled cheeks in her mind's eye, even as she feasted on the rugged silhouette in the doorway. It seemed she was making a habit now of clamping her thighs together.

"What was that?" John asked, turning back to her.

"Huh? Oh, nothing," she lied, chuckling to herself.

John smiled, though with the sunlight coming from behind him his face was almost too shadowed to see it. Kim didn't care. She'd already gotten that smile memorized. She knew exactly where it was down there below those seductive blue eyes. And she felt intimate with every hair of that yummy mustache.

"Well," John said, almost loudly, "I'd better get started. Any last minute instructions...other than what you told Alex, I mean?"

"No, that should do it. Mind if I come by every now and then to check on progress, or will I get in your way?"

"Not at all. You're the customer. Stop by as often as you like. Besides," he winked and smiled slyly, "it'll be nice to see some pretty scenery every now and then. I mean, in addition to the gorgeous view outside the loft doors." At about the middle of his overt flattery, Kim saw those dreamy eyes look her up and down. And that seemingly ever present smile broadened, a sign to Kim that he approved of what he saw. As she fought to keep from jumping him right there in the loft, she couldn't help but wonder if he was getting as stoked as she already was.

"Down girl," she chided herself. "Get a grip. You've been waiting a long time for this loft room. Let the man do his work. Besides, you're probably imagining things here. Look at that hunk. He could have any woman on the planet. What makes you think his gonads are hopped up to try YOU on for size?" She sighed audibly and said to herself with finality, "Get real."

"Do your work, tool man," she said to John, as she turned to make the return trip down the ladder.

"Don't forget to stop by," he said with a final wink as she climbed over the edge of the loft.

She stopped and looked up at him...right into those captivating blue eyes. Surprising herself as she'd never done before, her mouth apparently betrayed her innermost desires. With thinly veiled innuendo she said, "Oh, I'll be back all right, tool man. There's nothing I'd like more than to see just how well you...work." Realizing what she'd said, she felt her face - for sure this time - flush a bright crimson. She hurried to climb over the edge of the loft and down the ladder. But in the instant before John's visage disappeared from view, she was sure she saw one delighted, face-devouring grin plastered all over it.

Kim managed to get down the ladder without mishap, but when she reached the solid ground of the barn's dirt floor, she found her legs wobbling uneasily. Her whole body trembled. She was unsteady, holding onto the ladder for dear life, leaning against it, almost hugging it. Her heart pounded. She had pins and needles in her fingers. For a fleeting moment she feared she might be having a stroke. But she laughed at the silliness of the thought. She knew EXACTLY what was going on. She had the hots for John in a major way. Even to the point of boldness such as she'd never displayed before. The area between her legs felt like she'd been holding an ice cream bar in there...like it had quickly melted and was now warm, wet and sticky. Her thighs pressed tightly together again, but that didn't stop the sensation. She ached for John, naked and sweaty...his hands and lips all over her. And hers likewise all over him. She burned. She itched. She craved. But what made her smile most was the niggling thought that, based on what she'd seen and heard from him so far, he would be just as thrilled to jump her as she would be for him to do it.

That thought seemed to help her get her body under control, get strength back in her legs. She stood up, no longer needing the ladder for support. She smiled, both inwardly and outwardly. And wondered...if John DID want her, should she....? No. But...why not? They were both adults, both capable of making decisions for themselves. Why the hell not? She'd been nothing short of celibate for months now. Why shouldn't she go for it once in a while? She deserved a little pleasure in her life. And who knows...maybe it could lead to something special? Oh, wow, she thought...hormones can make you crazy!

But as she walked back to the house, she took one last glance up into the loft. John was roaming about up there, pencil above his ear, tape measure sliding out it's yellow, metallic tongue, then sucking it back in again with a snap. Looking up at his back, Kim sighed. Even his shoulder blades were making her wet! If she ever saw him naked, she'd probably explode into a billion, billion atoms and float away into nothingness. But, God, what a way to go!

On her way back to the house the plan crept into her brain. Despite her conscience - and years of habit - trying to convince her it was a foolish idea, she decided that she was going to flirt, and flirt openly, with this man. What did she have to lose? He was obviously a very nice man. At the very least he enjoyed flirting right back. So what would be the harm? If nothing happened, then fine. But...if it did...even anything at all...at the very least she would have enough fantasy material to keep her pleasing herself for years to come. He could be her very own imaginary lover. She would have no trouble fantasizing herself to orgasm by picturing his handsome face and firm body pawing her with passion and lust.

So, it was settled. She began thinking of all the excuses she could come up with to check on his "progress." And with each visit to the loft she would flirt shamelessly. She could key on his reactions as to whether or not she was being a nuisance. If she was, she'd back off. But if not....oh, God...if not. She sighed just to think of it.

Not to seem too desperate or needy, Kim waited several hours before her first visit to see how John was doing. She'd spent those hours peering out the kitchen window, watching his frequent trips to the front of the barn for sheet rock, lumber, etc. Her mind wasn't just seeing the backside of his jeans dissolving away now, but also the front of them. Once, when he'd wiped sweat from his brow with a cloth from his truck, she imagined the jeans had disappeared completely, and he was wiping his entire sweaty body with the cloth. And, my oh my, what an impressive tool the tool man had! That particular little fantasy resulted in Kim using a cloth on herself...a cold one, filled with ice, rubbed all over her face and neck...and then stuffed between her legs.

Then it hit her. Her first excuse to check on "things." John was sweating. Surely he would LOVE a cold glass of water or lemonade or iced tea. He must be parched. Surely he needed a break from his work. It was, after all, nearly lunch time. That was it!

In less than five minutes, Kim had a tasty ham sandwich and a large glass of iced tea whipped together and ready to be trundled out to her tool man. And no sooner were they prepared, than they were on their way to be consumed by her sweating hero.

He was up in the loft, hammering away, when Kim brought the modest lunch to him. Balancing the sandwich and drink on a small, round tray, she slowly worked her way up the steps of the ladder. She was not prepared for the sight that greeted her when she reached the top and peered over the edge of the loft. Not more than six feet in front of her, bent over and hammering together what appeared to be some sort of frame, was her tool man. He knelt on one knee, his other leg out to the side a bit with part of the fame between his knee and foot as he pounded a nail into place. As he bent over, his fine ass was prominently displayed in Kim's direction. His entire body shook with the force of driving the nails home. The symbolism of a tool man pounding away with his hammer did not escape Kim, either.